


Rub-A-Dub-Dub, A Pup In A Tub

by ghostofgatsby



Series: a tail-waggin’ good time [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Collars, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gentle BDSM, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Kink, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:57:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smith clears his throat and knocks on Trott's bedroom door. “Hey, Trott? You busy?” He fiddles with the collar in his hands, turning it around and running his fingers along the leather.<br/>“Nah, come on in.”<br/>Smith opens the door to Trott’s room and steps inside.<br/>Trott is sitting on his bed with headphones on and his laptop in front of him.<br/>“What’s up?” Trott asks, eyeing the collar in Smith’s hands.<br/>“I, um...” Smith rubs the back of his neck in awkwardness. “Do you want to take a bath with me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rub-A-Dub-Dub, A Pup In A Tub

**Author's Note:**

> Because Good Boy has gotten 60+ kudos as of writing this (!!!!!??? <3), and because I love it very much, have a sequel!  
> Though this is less puppy play oriented, and more non-sexual intimacy. Not very complicated, but that’s okay. It doesn’t have to be.
> 
> As cheesy as it is, the title amused me too much. I couldn't not name it that when I thought of it.
> 
> I have one more fic in mind, which is why there's a series now. If there's anything you'd like to see, let me know! The next one will definitely be more puppy play oriented and more involved. Hopefully a better sequel, too, as I'm not entirely happy with this one.
> 
> cws: none that I can think of. If I need to tag something, let me know.
> 
> reblog?: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2016/06/13/rub-a-dub-dub-a-pup-in-a-tub-ghostofgatsby

“ _Trooott!_ ” Smith shouts in the direction of his open bedroom door.

“What?” Trott yells back from somewhere else in the house.

“I’ve got a question, come here!”

Smith turns away from his computer screen. He stretches his arms above his head as he pushes his desk chair away from his desk, and faces his bedroom door.

Trott climbs the creaky stairs up to the second floor. Smith smiles at the sound of Trott’s half-hearted grumbling.

“What’s up, sunshine?” Trott asks, raising an eyebrow when he appears in the doorway. He leans up against the molding. There’s a pencil stuck behind his ear, and his hand is smeared with graphite.

Smith grins slowly. “I had a question.”

“Yeah? About what?” Trott gestures for him to explain.

Smith glances at his computer screen, and back to Trott waiting in the doorway. “What do you think about collars?” He asks slowly.

“That’s a random question,” Trott snorts.

Smith scratches at his meager beard and shrugs. “I want to know what you think.”

“Collars are nice. What made you think of them?” Trott vacates the doorway and strolls into the room at last.

Smith smiles and gestures in reply to the bondage gear website he’d been perusing. “I was browsing, and wondered what your opinion was.”

Trott leans on Smith’s shoulder once he turns back to the screen. “Not bad...” He murmurs. His fingers brush the nape of Smith’s neck. “Anything catch your eye?”

Smith scrolls slowly through the index of collars. “This blue one’s pretty nice.” He replies, pointing to the far right of the screen with his mouse cursor.

Trott hums. He presses a kiss to the back of Smith’s neck. “You’d look pretty in green, too.” He says into Smith’s hair.

Smith shivers and hides a smile. “I was thinking...”

“Really?”

“Oh, fuck off.” He rolls his eyes.

Trott laughs. “Go on.”

Smith huffs, squirming a little in his desk chair at the feeling of Trott’s breath on his hair. “Maybe- I don’t know, but...maybe one for you? For the puppy play stuff we do?” He asks hesitantly.

“Sure. I have a collar we could use, actually.”

Smith sighs in relief at Trott’s assurance, and grins at him over his shoulder. “Really? Can you show me?”

Trott nods, stands up straight, and leaves the room. Smith hears him dig through his closet in the bedroom across from his, looking through the plastic bin where he kept bondage gear and other assorted kinky items. He should have figured Trott already had a collar they could use. Kinky bugger.

Trott comes back a minute or so later and hands Smith a red leather collar. It’s similar to a dog collar in style, with a non-descript silver tag on the front.

Smith rubs his thumb back and forth over the leather and smiles not a little nervously. It was one thing to think about an idea; it was another to have the weight of that idea in your hands.

Smith looks up at Trott, who’s smiling at him softly.

“What do you think?” Trott asks. He sits down on Smith’s bed across from the desk, and brushes his bangs out of his eyes.

“I like it.” Smith admits quietly, rubbing his thumb over the silver buckle at the back. “Was this always yours, or...?” He knew Trott had played with other people before him, and had been mentored by some guy in the scene named “Sips” and his friends, but he didn’t know if he’d played with other...”puppies”, so to speak.

“Always been mine.” Trott says, “It doesn’t hold any sentimentality, really, and it’s not the first one I bought.”

“What was the first one you bought like?”

“It was an actual dog collar. Not the brightest of my choices, I’ll be honest. It didn’t really fit me, and left behind carpet burn on my neck. I think I ended up donating it to an animal shelter later on...”

“Wow, Trott.”

Trott shrugs. “You live, you learn. Not the _worse_ mistake I’ve made, either. But that,” he says, pointing to the collar, “I had custom-made. Bit expensive, but the website I ordered it through was really nice.”

“What was the website?”

“Hm...I don’t remember the url offhand. I’d have to look it up.” Trott sighs and ruffles his hair. “It had a wide selection of custom pet play stuff, actually. Collars, cuffs, bondage gear. Ears and tails, too.”

“Really?” Smith asks curiously.

“Yup. I prefer the silicone tails, honestly, versus fluffy ones, but to each their own.”

“What makes them different?”

Trott smirks. “Easier to clean and more fun to wag.”

Smith smiles back at him. “Okay. I guess I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Sounds good. I’ll look through my records later to see if I can find that web address.” Trott stands up from Smith’s bed with a smile. “That all you wanted to talk about?”

“Yeah.” Smith looks down at the collar in his hands. “Would you mind if I hung onto this?” He asks slowly. He looks up into Trott’s eyes as the other man walks closer.

“Not at all, sunshine. Plot away.” Trott leans down and kisses Smith cheerfully.

Smith kisses him back, wanting more, but Trott pulls back all too soon. Trott’s warm hand brushes his cheek. Smith licks his lips and watches Trott head towards the door.

He loops the collar in his hands again, thumb tracing the buckles on the back, and an idea- odd but interesting- pops into his head.

“Hey, Trott? Can this get wet?”

Trott pauses in the doorway. “I wouldn’t swim with it, but it should be waterproof. Why?”

Smith grins. “Just thinking.”

“Don’t think too hard, Smith, you’ll hurt yourself.” Trott smirks.

“Oh _fuck off_ , you twat.” Smith shakes his head and smiles back.

 

Later that evening, Smith takes a deep breath and leaves his room. He crosses the hallway and knocks on Trott’s closed bedroom door.

A muffled noise comes from within. “Yeah?”

Smith clears his throat. “Trott. You busy?” He fiddles with the collar in his hands, turning it around and running his fingers along the leather.

“Nah, come on in.”

Smith opens the door to Trott’s room and steps inside.

Trott is sitting on his bed with headphones on and his laptop in front of him.

“What’s up?” Trott asks, eyeing the collar in Smith’s hands.

“I, um...” Smith rubs the back of his neck in awkwardness. “Do you want to take a bath with me?”

“A bath?” Trott raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I was thinking I could, you know...wash your hair and stuff?” Smith gestures with collar. “I don’t know, it’s- well, it’s kind of a stupid idea, and it doesn’t have anything to do with puppy play stuff, exactly, but-”

Trott grins slowly. “Nah, it’s not stupid.”  
  
“So...you want to?” Smith smiles back.  
  
“Yeah, I’d like that. Let me shut this down and I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

Smith nods and goes to start the bath.

 

Smith fills up the tub with warm water, hot, but not scalding. He makes sure not to fill it up too much. If they’re both going to get in the bath, he doesn’t want the tub to overflow. When the water reaches to almost the desired amount, Smith dumps in some bubble bath. It was a slightly embarrassing purchase that he made, but fuck it. Even if he added too much soap... Smith winces to himself at the height of the bubbles. They’ve foamed up into a mountain floating across the top of the water.

Trott smirks when he walks in and sees it.

“Oh, shut up...” Smith rubs the back of his neck and shuts off the faucet.

Trott chuckles good-naturedly as he sets a stack of towels onto the closed toilet seat. “Clothes off?”

Smith nods. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not a swimming pool, mate.” He watches Trott get undressed from his perch on the edge of the tub. There isn’t anything sexual between them in this moment, nor any rush to get their clothes off.

Unlike his first time domming, Smith doesn’t feel nervous or uncertain about anything. Sure, taking a bath together was new territory, and so was the collar, but Smith feels more at ease in his role. The house is nearly silent except for the drip of the tap. In the silence and warmth of the bathroom, with Trott, he feels utterly comfortable. A part of his brain prods at his feelings- _maybe I like this a bit too much_.

Trott finishes folding his clothes with a sigh. He sets them aside and scrubs a hand through his hair for a moment before facing Smith.

“Ready?” Smith asks quietly, voice hushed.

Trott nods and smiles at him reassuringly.

Smith stands up. The collar sits between them, set carefully on top of the sink counter, nestled in their pajamas. Smith picks it up with careful hands. He unclasps the buckle at the back, and holds out the ends.

Trott takes a step forward and bows his head the slightest. Smith brings the ends of the collar around his neck and fastens it together.

“Good?” Smith asks quietly. He slips two fingers between the collar and Trott’s skin to make sure it isn’t too tight.

Trott nods.

Smith cups his cheek, and Trott nuzzles his hand back.

Smith can feel his breath tighten in his chest. Trott looks good like this. The red leather of the collar is stark against his skin, but brightens the golden tones in his hair and eyes. He looks back at Smith without a shred of worry.

It’s a good look for someone who had lines between their brows from squinting so much in frustration.

There’s something about this that Smith can’t put his finger on. He stands there for a moment, not really thinking of anything in particular, but enjoying the feeling of Trott’s closeness.

He smiles softly and drops his hand from Trott’s cheek.

Smith undresses slowly and lazily, throwing his clothes to the floor without much care where they land. He gets in the bath, and beckons Trott in. The rising bathwater makes him wary. He’s really hoping he didn’t misjudge the water displacement...but Trott steps in and sits cautiously between Smith's legs, and it’s fine.

More than fine, really. The water is warm. Smith knows without looking that Trott’s amused at this. He draws patterns through the bubbles with a finger.

Trott fits between his legs, even though Smith's legs don't fit in the tub. His knees are bent, and above the surface of the water. But that’s okay. Trott seems comfortable, anyway.

Smith sighs happily, letting himself bask in the warmth of the bath for a moment before getting to work.

“I’m going to wash your hair first, alright?” He asks Trott. His foot brushes Trott’s ankle as he leans forward to grab the shampoo.

Trott hums affirmatively.

Smith sets the shampoo bottle on the edge of the tub. He rinses off the bubbles sticking to his arms before he starts on Trott’s hair.

“Tilt your head back.” He says softly, stroking a wet hand along Trott’s shoulder. Trott obliges, and Smith cups his hands together to pour water atop Trott’s head.

Smith takes his time. He smiles at how dark Trott’s hair is when it’s wet, and cards his fingers through it in gentle motions. Trott’s shampoo is rather non-descript. Boring, in Smith’s opinion, but it doesn’t really matter. Anything smells good on him.

Smith works the shampoo into a lather in Trott’s hair, hiding a smile at Trott’s occasional hums of pleasure. “Good boy...” He whispers quietly. He pecks kisses to the back of Trott's neck, the top of his spine, and his shoulders.

Smith takes a long while to rinse out Trott’s hair. He’s careful not to get soap in Trott’s eyes, but he can’t help but feel a little bad about how his neck has been craning backwards for several minutes. That can’t be comfortable.

A solution comes to mind, and Smith finishes rinsing. “There you go. You can put your head back down now, Trott. Relax a bit.”

Trott lets his chin drop to his chest. Smith rubs his shoulders and neck, working his hands into Trott’s muscles. Trott lets out a pleased hum.

Smith continues for a little while, then stops.

Trott whines.

“Sorry,” Smith chuckles, “Don’t want you to fall asleep on me. I still have to wash the rest of you, you dirty fucker.” He wiggles a little bit against Trott to reach the soap and washcloth, cursing a little about how he should have moved it earlier.

Trott laughs at him quietly.

Smith hides a smile. He washes Trott’s back, shoulders, and arms with gentle, circular motions, and then cups his hands together again to rinse the soap away. He guides Trott to recline back into his chest. Trott leans against him, and Smith washes down his front.

Smith is a little surprised that Trott is letting him take care of him like this. But that’s the sort of thing this “puppy space” provided. The means for such a thing. Trott doesn’t have to worry about being responsible, for a change.

“Good boy...can you turn around for me?” Smith murmurs.

The tub squeaks as Trott turns and maneuvers his legs overtop Smith’s.

They share a sheepish smile. Both of them are wary of the water level sloshing against the sides of the tub. The bubble level has decreased, and soap mountains have become dunes.

A slow grin creeps across Trott’s face.

Smith narrows his eyes in suspicion. “What are you...”

Trott shakes his his head from side to side, splattering water droplets across Smith’s face and the shower tiles.

“Thanks, Trott.” Smith remarks with a wry smile. He wipes the water off his face.

Trott laughs.

Smith continues washing Trott’s arms and down his legs. He even rubs Trott feet, digging his thumbs into the soles and the arches.

Trott’s foot squirms a little in his grip as he lets out a pleased hum. His eyes have closed, and his chin has dropped to his chest.

Smith chuckles shyly. “Feel good?” Who knew he could actually be good at this...

Trott opens his eyes and leans forward, licking Smith’s nose out of the blue.

“Hey!”

Trott giggles.

Smith scoops up a handful of bubbles still clinging to the side of the tub and gives Trott a beard. Two seconds pass before they both burst into laughter. Smith wipes it away, cupping Trott’s jaw in his hand for a brief moment.

Trott shakes his head at him and laughs.

Smith grins back. He wrings out the washcloth and hangs it on the side of the tub. “Come here.” He beckons.

Trott scoots closer, leaning into the crook of Smith’s shoulder and neck.

Smith wraps his arms around him. He kisses the top of Trott’s head and tucks a lock of wet hair behind his ear.

Trott muffles a yawn in Smith’s neck.

“Getting sleepy, huh?” Smith chuckles.

"Mmm..." Trott smiles but gives a tired nod.

"Come on, Trott. Let’s get out of the bath, then, yeah?"

They step out of the tub and dry off, rubbing warmth through the towels, and redressing in boxers and pajamas. Smith combs Trott’s hair and blow dries it. He takes his time carding his fingers through Trott’s hair for longer than is strictly necessary. The heat from the hair dryer warms his hands, and makes Smith think of hot summer days by the beach. Sunbathing with Trott sounds really nice right now. Sunny afternoons spent poolside with a tropical drink and lazy kisses. But the apartment is where they are tonight. Once Trott’s hair is super-mega-dried, they retire to the living room.

Trott lies in Smith's lap on the couch, while Smith continues to run his fingers through Trott's hair.

They watch tv for a while, winding down from their day, and after the fourth disturbing late-night rerun of Criminal Minds, Smith yawns.

“Well, I'm ready to go to bed, I think. How about you?” He looks down.

Trott's asleep.

Smith smiles. “Hey. Sleepy head. Wake up.” He shakes Trott’s shoulder lightly.

Trott blinks awake.

"Bedtime. Come on, Trott."

Smith leads him by the hand to bed, silently asking yours or mine. Trott nuzzles him in response. He follows mindlessly behind Smith as the other man pulls him along.

They get cozy under the covers, tucked in next to each other

“Comfy?” Smith asks.

“Mhm...” Trott gives him a sleepy smile.

Smith brushes his fingers over the collar around Trott's neck. "Ready for me to take this off?"

Trott nods and lifts his head for a moment.

Slowly, Smith reaches around and undoes the clasp. He sighs happily and places the collar on the side table, reaching up to turn off the light.

"Hey." He says after he snuggles back under the sheets. He kisses Trott gently.

Trott smiles and nuzzles his cheek. "Hey, Smith."

"Was that okay? Was all that alright? It was sort of a spur of the moment decision, so I-”

“Smith." Trott interrupts him by kissing him slowly. "It was _fine_. It was really nice.”

Smith lets out the breath he’d been holding. "I can’t believe I got something right for once,” he chuckles.

“Well, it’s different when you dom, isn’t it?” Trott smirks. “It’s not like when you sub and misbehave on purpose.”

“Mhm.” Smith smiles, and traces Trott’s hip under the sheets. He can feel his tiredness starting to affect him, but there are still questions floating in his head. “What about the collar?” He asks Trott. “Was that alright?”

Trott smirks. “Collars are nothing new to me, sunshine. It was nice. What’d you think of it?”

Smith grins back sheepishly. “I...really like it, actually.” He searches for words, unsure right now how to convey how he feels. “I’d like it if- well, could we use it again in another scene?”

Trott nods, cuddling a little closer to him and into the pillows under them. “Yeah, of course we can. I didn’t know you’d like it that much.” He smiles.

“Neither did I...” Smith admits.

Trott kisses him and Smith smiles back against his lips.

“I'll have to pay you back sometime with something you suggest that I’ve never done." Trott murmurs.

“Hahah, good luck. Kinky fuck. Not a lot of shit you haven’t done.” Smith jokes, and then gets serious. “But, anyway. You don't have to pay me anything, Trott. I did it just to be nice."

" _Really?_ " Trott raises his eyebrows.

"Oh, piss off."

Trott laughs and kisses him again. "I'm kidding, sunshine. Thank you."

“Mhm...” Smith rolls his eyes with a smile. “Whatever you say, Trott.”


End file.
